


Party crasher

by stans_birdjigsaw



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, Reddie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 13:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stans_birdjigsaw/pseuds/stans_birdjigsaw
Summary: Your name is Eddie Kaspbrak, and you just wanted to have a low-key, quiet eighteenth birthday.But your friends have other plans, and better yet, have even invited the strange new kid Richie Tozier to your wild birthday bash too.Can things get any worse?





	Party crasher

>Your name is Eddie Kasparak, and today is your 18th birthday.

“H-h-hey Eddie!” Your best friend, Bill Denborough, greets you with only a small stutter. His stutter has gotten a lot better over the years, surprisingly. 

“Bill! Hey!” You manage a small smile for your friend. You weren’t in the greatest of moods today, if you were to be honest. This evening you were going to be having a birthday party. And if there was one thing you hated, it was parties.

They were loud, sweaty, busy and just all-round unbearable. Your mother detested them too, which was why the party was happening at Bill’s house instead. His parents were out of town for the weekend, so it was a perfect opportunity. 

“H-happy B-b-birthday.” Bill grinned at you, eyes shining hopefully. He was obviously expecting you to make some comment about how you excited you were for the party, or ask him if he was finally planning on making a move on Beverly, but instead you just sighed, falling into formation besides him as the two of you headed inside the school for the first of your classes. Turns out your eighteenth birthday didn’t warrant a day off school, sadly. 

“Are you sure about tonight?”  
You ask Bill again, chewing your bottom lip. 

Bill looks a little worried, as though he had been fearing you’d ask. “Of course I am. It’s my b-best friends eighteenth b-birthday. Plus, I’ve not had a house p-party in forever. Everyone’s looking forward t-to it. “ 

You feel a little disappointed at your friend’s answer. Essentially he was telling you that the party was just as much for himself as it was you. You supposed this could be a good thing, though. It would perhaps draw the attention off of solely you for the entire evening. 

“Hey guys.” It was Stan, your other best friend, rushing to catch up with you. He was carrying way too many books in his hands, struggling to manage them all. Bill took some of them off him and Stan smiled gratefully, a small blush forming on his cheeks. Stan had an obnoxiously huge crush on Bill, but Bill seemed oblivious to it. Bill truly was not the most observant of his friends.

“Oh, happy birthday Eddie.” Stan shot you a quick glance. He wasn’t the most emotive of your friends, usually sticking to an either dead-pan expression or one of disdain. You knew it was just the way he was though. You could relate. 

“Thanks Stan.” You shoot him a small smile back, already sick of talking about your birthday. 

You push open the door to class, and inside, to your horror, is Beverley, sitting on the table grinning ear-to-ear with a bunch of red balloons.

“Happy Birthday Eddie!” She exclaims, standing up and rushing towards you, pulling you in for a hug.

You are hyper-aware of your other classmates who you don’t talk to sniggering a little and watching in amusement. You feel your cheeks flush red, both from embarrassment and anger. Beverley knew you hated grand gestures, or anything that drew attention to you. And this was your exact worst nightmare. 

“Thanks...” you mumble, pulling away from the red-haired girl’s hug. Her eyes are shining and her smile remains unfaltering, and try as you might, you find yourself unable to stay mad.

“You’re welcome Eddie! It’s your eighteenth birthday after all! You’re almost old enough to legally drink! That’s something to celebrate in itself, right?” She chuckled, handing you the rope to the balloons. “I got you these as a joke, kind of. Red’s your favourite colour, right?” 

You nod, looking up at the balloons looming above you, trying not to grimace. “Yup, sure is. Thanks, Beverley.” You take your seat, it’s near the back of the class besides Bill. 

Stan sits near the front, because he’s a teacher’s pet, and Bev sits in the middle besides Ben. Your other friend, Mike, is home-schooled, so you only see him on weekends. You’re pretty lucky to have all of your friends in this class, algebra, although the remainder of your classes are usually just you alone, or occasionally with Bill.

“So, Bill.” Bev turns on her seat, leaning over the back of her chair to look at Bill. “There’s this new kid at school. I got talking to him outside this morning. His name is uhm...Richie I think? I can’t remember exactly. But anyway, can he come to the party tonight?”

You feel your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. You desperately wanted the teacher to walk in, so you wouldn’t have to hear any more conversation about this party and you could get on with your silent moping in peace. 

Moping because Bev had just asked Bill if someone could come to YOUR birthday party. Yours!! Why wasn’t she asking you? Or even consulting you a little? You got it, the party was at Bill’s house, so technically, what he says goes. But you weren’t entirely sure you wanted some random new kid who’d started in the middle of the semester to be at your party. You didn’t know what his deal could be.

Bill just shrugged nonchalantly, his cheeks flushing pink at the fact that Beverly was talking to him. Which you didn’t really understand, considering the two of them were friends and spoke all the time. You wondered what it was like, to be Beverley and be dotted on by not one but two guys, probably more. But you knew Ben and Bill were both head-over-heels for her. And yet, she seemed to remain oblivious. Perhaps ignorance was bliss.

“Sure, I d-don’t see why n-n-not.” Bill said, turning to look you, as though asking for approval. “That’s alright with you, yeah Eddie? The more the merrier, right?”

Your friend group had not grown at all since the age of thirteen. It’d always been you, Bill and Stan, and then Beverly, Ben and Mike came along later down the line and made you guys the official lucky six. You’d been affectionately named the “Loser’s Club” by Bev, although you guys were no longer considered losers as much as you once had been.  
Bullies had slowly trickled out as you’d grown older, and now, if you could drive, or smoked, or could offer a free house for parties, especially a house with a pool or a hot tub or an unlocked liquor cabinet, then you weren’t entirely considered a social outcast. And thankfully, the Loser’s Club was some of those things.

Which meant tonight your unofficial birthday party was not going to only be attended by members of the Loser’s Club. Anyone and everyone was welcome. And you were terrified. 

“Sure, sounds great.” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. There was no point complaining, or huffing, or voicing any of your complaints to Bill and Bev. It’d only upset them, and the two had dealt with enough, without you turning into your mother and going whiny on them. 

From the front of the class, you clocked Stan, angrily tapping his pencil against his desk and clicking his heels together under his desk. You knew what he was thinking, and feeling. He was probably just as nervous for the house party as you were, if not more.

Stan was a quiet, reserved guy who enjoyed reading, bird watching, Bill, and not entirely much else. That wasn’t to shove Stan into any sort of box or describe him as a one-dimensional character, of course. It was just hard to know exactly what Stan enjoyed or was into when you only saw him crack a smile at his own dark jokes or cryptic poems he’d read to yourself and Bill (often winning him an awkward laugh and approving thumbs-up from you both).  
On the list of things Stan liked, crowds, loud pop music, dancing and drunk teenagers were certainly not up there. In fact, they weren’t even on the list at all. So you could see why he was feeling particularly antsy about the party, even more so now that he knew random strangers were welcome, and being invited out of the blue. 

You were almost wondering if Stan was going to dare turn around and say something, when suddenly the teacher walked in, and Bev promptly turned back around to face the front, and you and Bill hurriedly opened your textbooks to begin working. 

An hour later and class was finally over. You were one of the first out of class, desperately trying to avoid any of your friends and any more talk of your birthday. The corridors were not yet entirely full, so you managed to weave your way through them quickly enough. You were drawing close to your next class, chemistry, when you suddenly felt the air being knocked out of your chest as someone walked straight into you with so much force you almost feared you were being attacked.  
“Shit! Sorry dude. I just, uh-d’you know where chemistry lab 2 is? I can’t fuckin’ find anywhere in this dumb school.”  
You looked up at the person talking to you, and realised you’d never seen him before in your life. He was tall, really tall, and had messy brown hair with similarly coloured eyes, and more freckles than you thought you’d ever see on a person before. He looked as though he saw the sun a lot; he wasn’t like you who were pale as a sheet and spent most of your time inside with the curtains drawn.

“Uh..hello? Are you deaf or somethin’? Where. Is. Chemistry?” He was making ridiculous motions with his hands now, waving them about as though he were attempting some sort of sign language. You realise you hadn’t answered his question.

“Oh. Uhm, chemistry 2 is just there.” You pointed towards the door, which happened to be your door, as you were in the chemistry 2 classroom as well. 

“Sweet. Thanks kid.” The stranger gave you a toothy grin, giving you a small wave before turning on his heel and heading in that direction.

“Hey, watch it tall-ass!” Someone spat as he walked right into another person. Jeeze, this guy was a fucking idiot.  
The tall unknown guy just flipped the other dude off and finally made it to the door of his classroom and of course, attempted to pull open the push door.

You sigh and follow suit, heading inside and sitting down in your usual seat at the back of the class. 

The stranger stood at the front of the class awkwardly, fidgeting and glancing around the room from behind his stupidly large spectacles, obviously wondering where to sit. You assumed he must be the new kid Bev had been talking about earlier, and you grimace as you realise he was supposed to be coming to your birthday party. 

The teacher walked in and instantly clocked the new kid, he was hard to miss, being so obnoxiously tall and wearing possibly the brightest Hawaiian shirt you’d ever seen in your life. 

“Ah, you must be the new kid, Richard, was it...?” Mrs Johnson the chemistry teacher asked, peering over her glasses at him. 

“Richie Tozier.” The kid held her hand out for the teacher to shake. She didn’t.

“Yes....well, I believe there’s a free space next to Edward Kaspbrak at the back over there.” She waved her hand in your general direction. “Here’s a textbook. Edward will fill you in on what you’ve missed.” 

You sigh inwardly. Today was going to be a long, painful day. 

>Your name is Richie Tozier, and you’ve just been sat next to a tiny, angry-looking kid who has no business being the same age as you. 

“‘Sup, Edward.” You said to him nonchalantly, flopping down in the seat next to him. “You coulda told me you were in the same class as me.” 

He doesn’t seem to respond at first, and actually, he looks a little scared of you. You almost feel bad. 

“My name’s Eddie.” He mumbles after a moment of hesitation, glaring at you from behind his textbook. 

“Cool. I’m Richie. But you already heard me say that.” You shrug. “What page are we on? Hey, I really hope this book has a bunch of dicks and ‘your mom’ jokes written in it. Those things always make me laugh.” 

Eddie looks at you with an expression that suggests he’d already made that assumption about you. 

“Page sixty-eight.” Eddie sighs, not looking up from his own textbook and paper. 

You let out a loud snort, you can’t help it, that page is so close to page-

“Richard, is there a problem?” The old bag at the front of the class is talking to you. The bitch who wouldn’t even shake your hand. Damn, whatever happened to manners? 

“No miss. Just had something stuck in my throat.” You mumble, looking at her with wide, innocent eyes. 

“Probably not the first time.” You heard some jock-ish looking boy mutter from the other side of the room. He friends snigger in agreement, one of them mumbling “dumb fag” under their breath.

Eddie’s eyes widen, you knew he had heard it too. You feel your cheeks flush red, fuck, you didn’t need his damn sympathy already. You’d just met the guy. Insults didn’t phase you, neither did homophobic slurs. You were used to that. It was the pitying stares and awkward looks of sadness you’d get from certain people that really made you feel like shit.

“Those guys are assholes.” Eddie said after a minute, glaring at them with his dark hazel eyes. He furrowed his brows and looked back down at his paper before you had a chance to respond.

“My sister would probably say those guys are gay themselves and just suffering from ‘internalised homophobia’.” You pipe up after a while. “But I sure hope not. If those are the only gay guys here, I think I might just take a vow of celibacy now and get it over with.” You manage a small smile Eddie. 

Eddie looks up and stares at you, his eyes flickering slightly, as though he’s trying to comprehend what you just said.  
“Oh.” He says after a second. “Right. Yeah.” He immediately glances back down. Well fuck.

“So what’s your deal, anyway?” You say after another minute. Everyone seems to be talking, and the teacher is busy doing fuck knows what else, but it seems to be taking up all her attention so she’s not giving much notice to the numerous gaggles of kids conversing. 

“What’s my deal?” Eddie parrots back, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, how come you’re in this class? You that smart? Did you get moved up a grade or two or something?” 

“What? Moved up a grade? I’m eighteen.” The smaller kid snaps back at you, and fuck, you feel like you’ve definitely offended him.

Well shit, it wasn’t your fault he looked about sixteen. He was so damn short. Also who still wears polo necks? Especially pink ones. 

“Oh shit, my bad. You just, uh...”

“Yeah, I look young for my age, I get it. You don’t think I get that a lot?” He snaps again, scowling. 

“Hey, being short ain’t all that bad. At least you don’t always get people asking you how the weather is up here, or make you reach and get them stuff from high cabinets.”

“Oh no yeah, it’s great. I love being pushed around all the time by kids bigger than me and getting denied entry to see R rated movies when all my friends have being going for years. It sure is spiffy.” 

For a rare moment in your life, you’re left speechless. Damn, this kid really was grumpy. 

“You wanna know what you are? Here, here is what you are.” Eddie is pointing at something in his textbook. You peer over and expect to see a photo of an ugly frog or something dumb to that extent, but instead you see a crudely-drawn penis scribbled in red sharpie, ball hairs and cum drops included. Damn.

You have to physically cover your mouth to prevent snorting again. He looks so proud of himself, and you can tell he’s trying to resist smiling. 

“Damn, Edward. That’s a fuckin low blow. Pun intended.” You smirk, and he actually smiles back at you, and fuck, his teeth are so white and straight. Heh, just like him, you think. 

“I told you, my name’s Eddie.” He huffs. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever Eddie-spaghetti. I’m still recovering from that burn, that’s all.” You grin at him, feeling somewhat self-conscious about your less-than-perfect teeth. You know you need braces, but there’s no way in hell you’d be able to afford them. You tried just not smiling for a while, but like fuck that was ever gonna last.

“Did you just call me Eddie-spaghetti?” Eddie’s cheeks burn pink.

>Your name is Eddie Kaspbrak, and the really weird new kid who you’re pretty sure is gay, just called you Eddie fucking Spaghetti. 

Why do your cheeks feel so red?

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued!


End file.
